A Brave Man's Heart
by ilovecartoonsgirl
Summary: When Sherlock takes a case of a young woman and finds out that Moriarty recommended him to her. The only question, why? This story happens right after the ending of season 3. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Well, now that the crazy semester is over, I'm going to be updating frequently again! Yay! Anyway, this is my first Sherlock fanfic, and you know what? I'm excited to go on this new journey! I hope you like it!**

**I don't own Sherlock, just Annika.**

It was just a normal day in 221B Baker Street…sort of. Moriarty suddenly came back to life just a few days before, so of course Sherlock was just a bit hectic trying figure what he was up to. John didn't blame him, shuddering when the memory of Sherlock falling to his 'death' played through his mind. John sighed as he reconciled with the fact that…_that_ memory was going to be haunting his dreams for a while. Like it did last night.

"John, shouldn't you be taking care of Mary or…working or something?" asked Sherlock without turning away from the note-covered wall. John surprised, stared at Sherlock's back like he was trying to see past it and look into his soul. _I just got here from work, and I told him that Mary was with one of her friends, so…wait a minute…_

"You're not thinking of going after him alone, are you?" asked John credulously.

"If I said I was, would you let me?" asked Sherlock in a way that made John feel he was being tested. Not that at the moment John cared.

"Heck no," answered John firmly with a touch of anger. _How in the world could Sherlock think I'm going to let him face Moriarty alone, especially…_

"Good," replied Sherlock. Again, John was shocked. Again, he stared at Sherlock, who continued looking at the wall, once in a while putting a picture or a note in a different place on the convoluted map. When Sherlock didn't say anything else, John looked down at his laptop, but not really seeing it. _Sherlock, even though it's because of Moriarty you're staying here in England, you rather he did die on that rooftop, don't you?_

Before John could muse more on the subject, there was knock on the front door downstairs. John perked his head up as Sherlock finally turned his head away from the wall.

"Hesitant, yet resolute. Client," stated Sherlock.

"Or it could be someone who knows something about Moriarty," said John a bit hopefully.

"I rather not get my hopes up. Besides, the chances that someone could find out something about his plans and get away with it, is very low," said Sherlock. John sighed, knowing that Sherlock was right as usual. _I just wish we could stop him now, before anything bad happens._

Then the door opened, and Mrs. Hudson walked in with a young woman walking close behind. When the young woman walked in, John happened to glance at Sherlock and his eyes widen when he saw Sherlock's face. Usually when a client walked in, Sherlock's face would be stone-like as he studied him or her. But that definitely wasn't the case now. Instead, Sherlock looked like he was seeing a ghost.

"Sherlock, John, I know you two are busy but this young lady says she is in need of your assistance," said Mrs. Hudson as she stepped aside, so Sherlock and John could see the young woman more clearly. The young woman was a bit taller than the average woman, with really curly brown hair, blue eyes, and fair white skin. She looked like she was in her early twenties and she was wearing an open burgundy jacket, a blue sweater, and khakis. In other words, just a regular person who came to see Sherlock. _So why is Sherlock looking at her like that?_

"It's alright Mrs. Hudson," said Sherlock as he walked towards the young lady, the strange look gone without a trace. When Sherlock was in front of the nervous looking woman, he stopped.

"Now, what is your name and what is your problem?" asked Sherlock. _Maybe I imagined it…_

"I'm Annika Petersen and…my problem is convoluted," answered the woman nervously. John took another glance at Sherlock and his eyes widen again as Sherlock took a sharp intake of breath. It was small and hardly noticeable, but it was definitely there. With an inward sigh, John turned his head towards Annika as he walked towards her. _I ask him about… his behavior later. Right now, we got to find out what she needs us for._

"Convoluted how? Oh, I'm John Watson," John said as he took out his hand. Annika, who looked a bit less nervous, took John's offer and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said with a small and sincere smile. "It's nice to meet you too," Annika said to Sherlock. Sherlock didn't reply, but he did a small nod.

"Well, I'm just going to go now," said Mrs. Hudson as she left the room.

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson," I called as I set up the client chair. "If you just sit here, we can talk about your convoluted problem," I told Annika.

"Okay," Annika replied as she walked over and sat down on the chair. While Sherlock and I sat in our chairs, Annika looked around.

"Nice T.V., oops, I mean Telly," Annika apologized. "I'm from…"

"Your accent suggests that you are American, and judging by the faint southern tones, specifically Virginia. You have a plane ticket in your jacket pocket which tells me that you got here late last night and the black circles under your eyes indicates that you've had very little sleep. Yet, instead of catching up on your sleep, you are here. So, what is so urgent that you traveled all this way, just to see me?" observed Sherlock. Annika looked shocked for a second before suddenly clapping like she was in a circus.

"Wow, you are good, just like Timmy said," said Annika when she stopped clapping.

"Who's Timmy?" John asked, a bit amused by her applause.

"He's a cop from back home who used to live in England. He referred you when he heard about my problem," answered Annika.

"Which is?" prompted Sherlock a bit impatiently.

"Well, you see, I'm adopted. In fact, I'm actually English but my…parents adopted me here in London when I was only a baby," answered Annika.

"Let me guess, you want to meet your parents but the adoption agency won't let you," said Sherlock quickly. John expected to hear the I'm-probably-not-going-to-take-this-case-because-it's-too-boring voice, but he didn't. _Okay, what in the world is going on?_

"That's the problem. I can't find the agency," stated Annika.

"What do you mean, you can't find the agency?" John asked. Annika then put her hand outside her purse and took some papers with the title, _The Jameson Adoption Agency_, out.

"I tried everything. The phone number, looking up the address, the internet in general, but all I got was zilch," answered Annika as she gave the papers to Sherlock. "It's like it doesn't exist."

"Maybe it went out of business," John suggested. Annika shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe, but shouldn't there be at least some mention that it used to exist on the internet?" asked Annika.

"I…guess so," said John uncertainly.

"Are you sure that these are your adoption papers?" asked Sherlock. Annika nodded.

"Oh yeah. My adoptive Dad used to wave them in my face…_a lot_," said Annika.

"Why in the world would he do that?" asked John.

"You don't want to know," said Annika firmly. _Okay…I do not like the sound of that…_

"Have you told your adoptive parents about this?" asked Sherlock.

"They're dead," stated Annika flatly. John, surprised from the lack of emotion in her voice, looked over to her. He looked at her just in time to see a flicker of sadness in her eyes. John breathed an inward sigh of relief. _Okay, she's just hiding her emotions…_

"Oh. I'm sorry for your loss," said Sherlock politely.

"Me too. Do you have any siblings?" John asked.

"It's okay and no," answered Annika. _So that's why she's looking for her real parents…she doesn't want to be alone. _Sherlock then nodded slightly and stood up.

"I'll take the case," he said.

"Really?!" exclaimed Annika as she too stood up, her eyes full of joy.

"Yes. A missing adoption agency, this should be fun," said Sherlock gleefully, as he rubbed his hands together. John put his head in his hand. _Sherlock…_

"I know right? It sounds like it came out of a classic mystery novel or something. Though, depending on how old the classic is, it might have been an orphanage. Oh well, same thing right?" said Annika. John whipped his head up, his mouth dropped open. _Did…she really just say that? _To add even more to John's astonishment, Sherlock chuckled.

"A bit. Can I hold on to these?" asked Sherlock, holding up Annika's adoption papers.

"Yep. Do you want me to go now?" asked Annika, pointing her thumb towards the door.

"Yes, get some sleep. I need your brain to be fully operational when I ask you more questions," ordered Sherlock.

"Aye aye sir!" exclaimed Annika, doing an American salute. She then looked at her hand before looking at Sherlock and John.

"Uh…the British salute differently…don't they?" she asked. John couldn't help but chuckle.

"We do it like this," said John, as he did a British salute. Annika copied him with a proud smile on her face.

"Well, off I go," said Annika cheerfully as she walked towards the door.

"Wait, I need your mobile number and where are you staying?" asked Sherlock as he quickly caught up with her. Annika stopped right in front of the door.

"Mobile…oh cell phone number. I'm staying at _Poppins's, _room 412. And here's my phone number," said Annika as she wrote a number on a piece of paper and gave it to Sherlock.

"Thanks, I shall call you later," said Sherlock as he opened the door.

"No, thank you. See you later! Bye John!" Annika cried as she started to walk out of the door.

"Bye Annika," John called after her.

"Hang on," said Sherlock suddenly, making Annika stop once again in her tracks. "You have something on your shoulder…got it. It was just a bit of fluff," said Sherlock as he picked something up from Annika's shoulder.

"Huh, well thanks. Goodbye again!" exclaimed Annika as she continued to walk out of John's line of sight.

"Goodbye," said Sherlock as he closed the door. _Okay John, it's now or never…_

"Well, she's an interesting character," said John.

"And it's an interesting case. Adoption agencies just don't disappear without a trace…"

"But not as interesting as you were when she came in."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" asked Sherlock, confused.

"When she came in, you look like you just saw a ghost," explained John.

"But I don't believe in ghosts. I thought you knew that John," said Sherlock as he went to the coatrack.

"It's an expression!" exclaimed John.

"Well, it doesn't apply to me. You must fine some new ones John," said Sherlock as he put on his signature black trench coat and blue scarf.

"Where're you going?" asked John, accepting that he lost the battle.

"I'm going to see Lestrade, maybe he can give us some answers on Annika Petersen's case. Or tell us if there has been any new signs of Moriarty that we don't know about," said Sherlock solemnly. _Moriarty…I actually forgotten about him for a few moments._

"Are you coming or are you going to go back to Mary?" asked Sherlock as he opened the door while looking at John.

"I got another two hours or so," John replied as he put on his own coat.

"Good. Then let's not waste time," said Sherlock as he left the room, with John close behind him.

**Well...is it Sherlock worthy? Do you like it? Does the chapter make sense? In any case, please review it so I can know what I need to improve or so I can know how I'm doing so far. See you till the next update!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Sherlock.**

In the near future:

_Pain. That's all he could feel at the moment. Deep and agonizing pain. He knew many types of pain. The pain of burning one's fingers on the stove, the pain of killing people, the pain of losing your best friend. While this pain was totally different from those, he knew this pain too all too well. It was the pain of being suddenly shot by a gun._

**What?! Well, be closer to finding out what's going on in the next update, whenever that will be (not too long from now hopefully). Don't be afraid to review and till then, see ya!**


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